


Colors On My Skin

by DisappointedSpaceDad (ShipThePuppy)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: College AU, Garrison Trio friendship - Freeform, Gen, Humorous, M/M, Soulmate AU, Voltron Summer Bash Gift Exchange, a lil bit of stress related langst, but only soulmates can swap tattoos or have the tattoos move between their bodies, everyone has a semi-sentient tattoo representation of their soul that moves around their body, just a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 09:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15069773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipThePuppy/pseuds/DisappointedSpaceDad
Summary: Lance was just trying to get to class on time. He didn't mean to bump into a stranger. Or to find out hours later that that stranger was actually his soulmate when he discovers they've swapped soul tattoos.***In which Lance is perpetually almost late, Keith makes discoveries at mealtimes, and Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro are just doing their best.





	Colors On My Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Voltron Summer Bash Gift Exchange! Hope you enjoy, Sora.

Lance pulled aside the flimsy curtain of the shower, stepping out onto the cool tile of his dorm’s communal bathroom. Towel wrapped around waist and hair, he approached one of the off-white sinks and set his shower caddy on the ledge.

 

Humming to himself, Lance plucked his cocoa butter moisturizer out and snapped open the cap. He flipped the bottle to squeeze some into his left palm, and paused.

 

A red watercolor wolf tattoo sat in the middle of his palm, staring quietly at him.

 

Moments later a frantic Cuban boy was seen running down the hall clutching a shower caddy to his chest, towel moments away from slipping, with an echoing cry of, “ _Huuuuuuuuunk!”_

 

*****

 

_Growing up, Lance loved his mother’s soul tattoo. A blue snake, it curled around her wrist and often migrated up to her neck and jaw. It would preen under Lance’s touch, following his fingers as he traced a line down his mother’s forearm, tongue flickering in pseudo kisses. He loved his father’s too, a purple peacock with hints of pink in the tail. His parents were soul mates, so it wasn’t uncommon to see the tattoos migrate between them, sometimes just swapping, sometimes one person carrying both._

 

_Still, between the two, his mother’s was his favorite._

 

_“Yours will come soon, mijo” she said, tapping the blot of blue currently hiding in his inner elbow. “As you grow it, too, shall take shape.”_

 

_In the end, Lance was the last person in his year to form his soul tattoo. But waking up at the beginning of his freshman year and finding a blue watercolor fox on his cheek had been one of the happiest days of his life._

 

*****

 

“And you’re _sure_ you haven’t had skin-to-skin contact with anyone? No borrowed pens during your anatomy class?” Hunk drummed his fingers on his desk, a small frown pinching his face.

 

Lance groaned from the top bunk, face buried in a pillow and one arm dangling. A red watercolor wolf stalked along that arm, curling across his skin, inspecting its new inhabitant. Hunk watched it settle on the back of Lance’s hand, resting its head on folded paws.

 

“Maybe you bumped into someone?” Pidge slid her torso out from under the bed. One lime-green ear bud dangled free around her neck. “No offense, but you aren’t the most graceful person when you’re rushing, and you’re almost late to that class every week. I’ve seen you take out a whole bike rack sprinting there just this semester.”

 

Lance lifted his face from the pillow and stared down at her. “Why are you under the bed?”

 

“It’s hot and I found a cooler patch of air down here. I’m watching a movie.”

 

“Oh.” He pressed his cheek to the mattress, pouting. “But, yeah, no, I was definitely running and might have tried taking a shortcut and gotten a little lost, but I didn’t run into--” He stopped.

 

Hunk and Pidge shared a look.

 

After thirty seconds of silence Hunk reached out and poked his arm. “Lance? Buddy?”

 

Lance looked at him with wide eyes, and whispered, “ _The mullet man.”_

 

*****

 

_Lance skidded around a corner, searching desperately for a stairwell, and collided straight into the only other person in that section of the underground tunnels connecting various buildings on campus._

 

_“Shit!” Lance blinked rapidly as he reoriented himself. A groan came from the floor. A man with a red graphic tee and black jeans, red flannel tied around his waist, scowled up at him. Lance’s heart stuttered. The stranger had lovely eyes. A purple-y gray. His hair was dark and a little long, with an upturn at the end. He was....pretty damn cute._

 

_(I’m so bi, Lance thought.)_

 

_“Hey man, sorry about that.” Lance held out his hand. The stranger grasped it, and he helped pull him to his feet. As soon as he was upright, he dropped Lance’s hand like it was on fire._

 

_“Watch where you’re going next time,” he muttered, quickly skirting around Lance and disappearing around the corner._

 

_Lance gave an affronted gasp, and called out after him, “Yeah, well, why don’t you get a haircut, mullet man!”_

 

_But he was already out of sight. Lance pouted, arms crossed over his chest, before his eyes widened and he took off running once more. He ended up crossing the threshold of his class just as the clock struck nine._

 

_*****_

 

“See, this is why I don’t use those tunnels.” Hunk nodded to himself. “They’re awful to navigate. I don’t care that they connect to White Hall or the office tower or that there’s supposedly a little known post office down there. I’d wander in and never come out.”

 

“I think it’d be a fun little adventure,” Pidge noted. “We should take a chance to wander around down there on one of our free days. It would be nice to be able to send packages home without having to trek through downtown.”

 

“Guys, missing the point!” Lance sat up, and clapped his hands together for emphasis. “The mullet man!”

 

“You’re sure he’s the only person you’ve had skin-to-skin contact with?” Pidge rested her elbow on the floor to prop her head up on her palm.

 

“Yeah,” Hunk said. Then, curiously, “Did he really have a mullet?”

 

“Well, okay, it might have just been a little long in the back and was starting to flip up at the ends.” Lance made a curving motion with two fingers at the back of his neck. “But yes! I’m absolutely certain!”

 

“Did he have anything that might hint at his identity? A lanyard with his student ID? Buttons or pins for which college he’s in? A sticker? Club memorabilia?”

 

“I don’t think so.” Lance frowned. “What do I do, guys? My soulmate’s out there somewhere, carrying around my precious Blue, and I’m stuck with this stranger on my skin.” He lifted his arm to look at the wolf. “No offense.”

 

The wolf tilted its head. Lance gently scritched as though petting it, and the wolf leaned into it. “Aw, I guess you aren’t so bad.”

 

Pidge scratched her head. “I don’t know. Maybe a missed connections thing? Or if you wanna avoid potential Craigslist creepers, just start using the tunnels a lot and hope you meet again? He’s probably noticed and is gonna be looking for you too, right?”

 

Hunk stood and crossed the scant space of their dorm (which was still bigger than other dorms, given they were lucky enough to score a corner room) to reach up and pat Lance on the shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, buddy. We can talk about it more before we head over to Pidge’s brother’s place for dinner, and after you get back.”

 

Lance blinked. “What?”

 

“He invited us over, remember? He wanted to meet Pidge’s roommates, introduce his new roommate?”

 

“He’s brought Shiro home before, but I haven’t met Lotor’s replacement yet,” Pidge added.

 

Lance waved his hand back and forth. “I still can’t believe you know Takashi Shirogane, but no, that’s not what I was referring to. When I get back from where? Where am I going?”

 

Hunk furrowed his brow. “Don’t you have an appointment with your advisor today?”

 

Silence. Lance looked over at the analog clock on Hunk’s desk. 11:40. His appointment with Coran was at noon.

 

“ _Shit shit shit shitshitshit!”_

 

*****

 

“Keith? Everything okay?”

 

Shiro approached the kitchen island cautiously, alarmed by his roommate’s utter stillness. Keith sat on one of the barstools, a bowl of fruit loops set before him, spoon just lifted out of the cereal, staring down with a frightening intensity.

 

“Is the milk expired? I’ll add it to the grocery list. I was just about to make myself a sandwich; I’ll make you one too. You probably shouldn’t be having cereal for lunch anyway--”

 

“The milk is fine, I just picked up that gallon yesterday.” Keith pointedly ignored the dig at his lunch choices. “Shiro, am I crazy, or is there a blue fox rolling around on the back of my hand right now?”

 

Shiro stepped closer, and leaned in to get a closer look. Sure enough, a blue watercolor fox soul tattoo was kicking its feet playfully on the back of his hand, and batting at his knuckles.

 

“Wow, I’m so happy for you, Keith!” Shiro clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I was pretty shocked the first time Allura’s jellyfish migrated over to me, too. Who’s the lucky person?” The wide-eyed, blank look Keith sent him made Shiro’s smile drop. “Oh. You don’t know?”

 

Keith shook his head. Paused. “Wait, no, I might? I bumped into a guy today in the tunnels under the office tower.”

 

“What did he look like?” Shiro rounded the island to take a seat.

 

“Dark skin. Not as dark as Allura. I think he may have been hispanic? Short brown hair, kinda tall, lanky, big blue eyes.”

 

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” Shiro rested his chin in his palm, unconsciously cradling the black leopard soul tattoo that was lounging on his jaw. “I’ll be on the lookout, okay? And maybe Matt can help?”

 

Keith’s mouth twitched into a half smile. “Thanks, Shiro. I appreciate it.”

 

“No problem. I’m still glad you agreed to move in on such short notice after Lotor bailed on the lease.”

 

Keith shuddered, remembering his previous roommate. Keith kept a corkboard in his room with maps of various places pinned, such as Voltron University’s campus map and a map of the Pink Stream Gorge. He liked to plan out his routes to class on the campus map and mark his favorite hiking trails on the other. His old dormmate had gotten one look at it and proceeded to tell all his friends that he was rooming with a crazy conspiracy theorist.

 

One particularly biting comment ended with Keith’s fist in his face, and it had made for an awkward living situation for the rest of that year. After that, living in an apartment seemed like a better option than close quarters of the dorms.

 

If anything, Keith considered _himself_ to be the lucky one when Shiro had seen him at the message boards, looking at wanted roommate ads. The two had shared an elective class on Japanese tea ceremony the previous year, and spent the rest of the semester commiserating about ‘soft power’ and calling themselves fools for thinking it would be easy just because of their cultural backgrounds. They got along pretty well. Keith was starting to warm up to Matt more, too.

 

Shiro glanced at his phone. “I have an advisory appointment soon, so I’m gonna make a sandwich and head out. But we can talk about this more later if you like? Matt invited his little sister and her roommates over for dinner tonight. She’s a first year. Feel free to come out and join us, okay? He’s making fried chicken. Should be enough for everyone.”

 

Keith shrugged, pushing around his now slightly soggy fruit loops with his spoon. “I’ll think about it.”

 

Shiro pat his back lightly, and was out the door five minutes later with PB&J in hand. Keith picked up his bowl and sipped the milk. The blue fox wove between his fingers before bounding up his arm to his bicep.

 

Keith grimaced. “I really hope your owner isn’t an asshole.”

 

*****

 

Coran had been an advisor at Voltron University in the city of Altea for thirty years. True, part of him getting the job was because of his connections to his childhood friend Alfor, President of the university, but Coran had come qualified and with an eagerness that hadn’t faded a bit even decades later. He had a reputation as one of the best academic advisors on payroll, for the simple fact that Coran _cared_.

 

Lance was reminded of this as he sat in the man’s office on the thirteenth floor of the office tower. Coran’s office was colorfully decorated. Pictures of himself and Alfor and Alfor’s daughter, Allura, hung from frames of all sizes and shapes on the walls. A wire tree sat on his desk, phone charms he’d bought from various cities during his vacation in Japan hanging from the thin metal branches. He kept a bowl of lollipops (the _good_ kind) on a side table. The books on his shelves were a mix of academic and fiction. A small set of windchimes hung in the window.

 

“That about settles it, there’s just one more thing!” Coran twisted his mustache, and leaned with his forearms on his desk. “Have you decided what to declare for your major?”

 

Lance sunk into his chair. “No?”

 

Coran sighed, and Lance winced. “There’s only so long you can put it off, my boy. You’ve only been taking general and elective course credits at this point, and if you wait much longer you’ll end up backloading all your major specific courses on your final year, or having to enroll for an additional semester to get your degree. I know you have some financial difficulties, and your partial scholarship only lasts for four years. You’d have difficulty covering an additional semester with loans alone.”

 

“I know.” Lance’s voice was quiet.

 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it--worried himself _sick_ about it. He knew he’d have to make a decision soon, but he didn’t want to make the wrong one. What if he got through two years studying for one thing, and then realized he hated it, or was bad at it? He wouldn’t be able to change majors at that point without taking an additional semester he couldn’t pay for. He’d end up graduating with a degree in something he didn’t want to do. And there was no way, _no way,_ he was asking his mom to dip into their hard-earned scant savings to pay for his schooling. They lived paycheck to paycheck as it was.

 

Coran observed the tense boy across from him with a furrow to his brows. The bright orange lure of his anglerfish soul tattoo peeked out from his shirt collar.

 

“How about this,” Coran spoke softly. “Come and meet me again next week. Take some time to think on it some more, and give me some ideas of what you’re thinking then. We can discuss options, and address your concerns. There are some aptitude tests we can try as well, that might help you get a better idea of what might interest you.”

 

“Okay.” Lance had trouble meeting his gaze. On his palm, the red wolf nuzzled at the base of his thumb, tongue coming out to offer a comforting lick he couldn’t feel. But the action was nice all the same.

 

“Good. And Lance, if you need anything, you can email me at any time.” Lance nodded, and Coran beamed. “Great! How’s next week, same day, same time, sound?”

 

Lance agreed as a knock came at the office door.

 

“Ah!” Coran sat up. “That will be my next appointment. I’ll see you next week, Lance. Don’t over-stress yourself, but try to think about it, okay?”

 

“I will. Thanks, Coran.” He slung his backpack over his shoulder as he left. Opening the door, he came face to face with Takashi Shirogane.

 

Lance’s eyes widened, nearly starstruck. Shiro was well known as the captain of the university soccer team, the Voltron Lions. Not only was he an amazing athlete, and a verbal activist for open discussion of disabilities in sports while having a prosthetic arm himself, he was also rumored to be top candidate for valedictorian his graduating year. On top of that, he was just a nice person in general. No one ever had anything _bad_ to say about Shiro, unless they were jealous of his accomplishments.

 

Lance opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find the right words.

 

“Excuse me.” Shiro smiled, stepping aside to let Lance pass. A curious expression crossed his face. “Wait…”

 

“Sorry, excuse me, gotta go!” Lance darted past and half-jogged down the hall.

 

Back at Coran’s office, Shiro watched him go.

 

“Shiro? You coming in?”

 

“Right, right. Sorry, Coran.” He stepped in, shutting the door behind him. “Hey, can you tell me who that was just now?”

 

*****

 

“It’s gonna be super awkward,” Lance bemoaned. His hands shoved deep in the pocket of his blue hoodie, playing with a loose string. He followed Hunk and Pidge in a line as they ascended the stairs up to her brother’s apartment hours later. “He’s gonna recognize me from earlier and it’s gonna be _weird_.”

 

“Just act normal,” Hunk advised. They crossed the walkway to apartment 301 and Pidge knocked. He glanced back at him. “I’m sure if you go on like nothing happened, he will too.”

 

The door opened. Shiro smiled genially. “Hey, Pidge, long time no see. And you must be her--” He stopped after looking over Hunk’s shoulder at Lance. Smile frozen in place, he took a few steps backward. “I’m sorry, could you excuse me for a moment?”

 

The three shared a look as Shiro took off deeper into the apartment.

 

“Act normal, huh?” Lance said.

 

“Sorry about that.” Matt quickly took Shiro’s place, appearing confused. “Okay, come on in, guys. The food should be done in a second if you wanna take a seat at the island.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Lance slouched as they entered.

 

Man, this sucked.

 

*****

 

“Keith.” Shiro knocked on his door. “Hey, Keith?”

 

The door opened. Keith poked his head out. “Yeah?”

 

“Just wanted to let you know dinner’s gonna be done soon, and Pidge and her roommates are here.” He kept glancing down the hall toward main room, which acted as a combination kitchen/living room with the island being the only thing separating the two spaces. “By the way, what did you say the guy from earlier looked like? Your soulmate? Brown hair, blue eyes, tall, lanky, brown skin?”

 

Keith was quiet for a long moment. “...yeah?”

 

“It’s probably major coincidence, but I _really_ think you should come out and meet them. Just in case.”

 

And because even Keith wasn’t that bad at picking up the obvious hints Shiro was dropping, he stepped out without a word.

 

*****

 

“This place is cleaner than I expected,” Pidge commented.

 

Matt narrowed his eyes as he slid plates of fried chicken, sweet peas, and mashed potatoes across the island. “And what were you expecting.”

 

“I don’t know. Maybe a nerd version of a frat-house? Definitely more anime posters.”

 

Matt raised his nose. “Oh, please, I have _some_ sense of decorum.” He waved a hand loftily. “Besides, the anime posters are all in my bedroom.”

 

They shared a laugh before something down a side hall caught Matt’s attention. “There you are! Why’d you disappear like that, Shiro? Hey, Keith, you joinin’ us for dinner?”

 

Lance, Pidge, and Hunk all turned to the two entering the room. Shiro hovered behind the one who could only be Keith.

 

All at once, Lance’s heart pounded and his eyes locked with vivid lavender-gray.

 

Simultaneously, two voices cried out.

 

“ _You!”_

 

*****

 

“Oh, man, it’s good to have you back, Blue.” Lance pressed kisses to the blue fox on his wrist, who preened under his attention.

 

“I missed you, Red.” Keith briefly touched his fingertips to the red wolf before it slinked beneath his shirt, probably to settle in its usual spot between his shoulder blades.

 

Lance snorted. “You call yours Red?”

 

Keith crossed his arms. “You call yours Blue.”

 

“Ha, yeah.” Lance leaned awkwardly against the railing of the walkway between building 3 and 4 of the apartment complex. Blue slipped across his skin in a blur, coming to rest behind his ear. “Sooooo, you wanted to talk.”

 

Keith looked out over the courtyard below. “We’re soulmates.”

 

“Yeah, I caught onto that when we swapped soul tattoos.” Keith scowled, and Lance held up a hand. “Sorry, I get snarky when I’m nervous.”

 

Keith finally turned to him. “You’re nervous, too?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been daydreaming about meeting my soulmate since I was a kid! Not that that means we have to rush into anything, or even be romantic at all, there are platonic soulmates. It’s just my parents were soulmates and I’ve always wanted what they have, and they got married after three months. I’m not saying we should get _married_ , of course--”

 

Keith cut off Lance’s rapidly devolving babble. “You wanna get coffee sometime?”

 

Lance’s heart stuttered, stomach swimming with butterflies. He smiled. “Sure. That’d be nice.”

 

“As long as it isn’t the place in the student center,” Keith added. “Their coffee is shit.”

 

“You too good for cheap coffee?”

 

“No, I’m too good for acidic garbage. There are plenty of places in Altea besides the student center to get a decent, affordable cup of coffee.”

 

“Well, you’ll just have to take me to them.”

 

Keith grinned, and for the second time that day Lance thought, _I’m so bi._

 

Keith held out a hand. “Keith Kogane,” he said. “Studying astronomy. Plan to work for NASA.”

 

Lance took it in his own, and gave a firm shake. “Lance McClain,” he answered. “And I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.”


End file.
